Hair Like Fire
by Birdofpray09
Summary: Post-Hogwarts. Draco and Ginny have been involved before, but are pulled apart for reasons I will not admit yet. The question is, how deep for their feelings for each other really reach? 'The mark on my forearm burns but I don’t care. All I can think is '
1. Default Chapter

**Hair like fire. . .**

I gazed at the destruction that lay before me. The fire charring the woods that once filled the valley below and made it a happy place. The smell of smoldering homes, of smoldering lives, now up in flames, permerates the air, invades my nostrils.

I know that I took part in it. I am responsible. I could not have stopped it, had no choice, but the thought makes me sick, anyway. I turn my head to the side to hide the expressions on my face I know will give me away. Uttering a quick excuse that I don't remember anymore I fled. As soon as I was out of sight, I fell to the ground and vomited. I apparated as soon as I was able. I knew not where I apparated to, I just knew I had to get out. Out to anywhere. As long as the night wasn't invaded with the sounds of people screaming, children crying. As long as the air didn't carry the smell of burning flesh and wood on it. As long as it was away from here.

The mark on my forearm burns but I don't care. I disregard it, giving it no more thought than to register the pain. My last thought before I apparate: _The fire. Her hair. Her hair, like the fire. Like the fire that I helped create, that killed people. Children. Families. Homes. But her hair, not like the fire, at the same time. _

I neither cared, nor was able to make sense of my twisted, contrasting thoughts. All my effort concentrated on getting somewhere safe.

As I became once again oriented with my surroundings after I apparated, I'm aware of the shouts of children. Not screams of anguish, or pain, but joyful shouts. I looked up as I got unsteadily to my knees, and saw a tall, round, garish-colored tent. Painted in bright yellow and purple stripes, it seemed to reflect the light blinking from the machines next to it.

I looked for the children, and found them walking around, with parents and with other children. Some holding up what looked to be balls of pink and blue fluff, on a stick. Hearing the music, and seeing what I knew to be a carousel, I was hit with the realization. _You're at a muggle carnival. Just like the Muggles you just helped kill. Help burn. They could have family here. You could just have ruined one of these people's lives. _

I clutch my head, desperate to rid myself of these thoughts that threaten to swamp my brain, to cloud my senses, to make me burst. Stumbling into the fairgrounds, I search the sea of bodies desperately. For what I cannot answer, not even to myself. I search for what feels like hours, of actual time I have no idea. A search that seems futile, but one which I know I have to continue. And when I see it, I know what I am searching for. A spark of red, just a tiny bolt, and gone. But I am on the scent now, and I will not give it up.

I follow it through a maze of tents and vendors, using all my natural instincts and Slytherin ruthlessness. And finally, I catch it.

Grabbing the wrist, I pull on it and swing the person around, thanking Merlin she is alone. I already know what she looks like, having studied her for hours on end, but my heart still races as she comes to face me. I have found her.

The look on her face is priceless, and I would give anything to have a sketchpad right now. Fury mixed with gladness. Confusion. Hopefulness. Above all, something I saw in her eyes frequently when we saw each other regularly. Something I would like to name, but which I don't dare to. The fury wins, as I knew it would, and angry words pour out of her mouth.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

A/N: My first angst fic. Or attempt, however it may be. It's not very angsty now. . but it will later. Very much appreciated if you would review, as well as with constructive criticism, provided it's not a flame! Questions about their relationship, and history, and why Ginny is at a muggle carnival will be answered soon!


	2. Embers in the Dark

**Hair Like Fire**

**Chapter 2: Embers in the Dark**

Their relationship started off normally enough. A snide comment from him when they were passing in the hall, a not so subtle dig when they ran into eachother into the library. Both were slightly startled to realize that their accidental meetings were quickly become not so accidental and their insults not so abrasive. He made a habit of going to Gryffindor quidditch practices to 'spy' and she often purposely sat at 'his' table in the library.

During their not so accidental encounters they found that despite their different family backgrounds, their different oppinions, they had no qualms about speaking to each other. About anything – _Almost_ anything. While they had no trouble telling the other about most of their feelings, they had an unspoken agreement to never talk about their feelings towards eachother. This made it particularly easy to ignore a shiver down the spine when they accidentally brushed hands or the sensation in their stomachs when they saw the other unexpectedly.

"_If you're going to attempt to do something with that rat on your head, Weasley, at least make up your mind first,." _Gah, this just sounds awkward. You know, when you put half your hair up and half down? That's what its supposed to be, but I'm not sure that's clear.

"_You should be talking, Malfoy. You are aware that you look like an albino ferret when you wear all black?"_

With this brutal honesty, they came to know each other in a weird sort of way. Draco knew that Ginny often tapped her feet when she having trouble with an essay, and Ginny discovered that Draco had very inexcusably girlish habits.

"_Damn, it broke again. Do you have another quill, Malfoy?"_

"_Too poor to afford proper quills Weasley? Front pocket on the left."_

_She rolled her eyes and opened the pocket. A few seconds later he heard muffled giggles and looked over._

"_Cuticle cream, Malfoy?" She said, barely suppressing her laughter._

_A slight blush colored his cheeks, but always the Malfoy, he simply said, "You might try some, Weasley, as your own are sadly neglected."_

As weeks and months hurtled by the pair, their feelings for eachother grew. But as their feelings grew, so did their ignorance of these said feelings. Ginny, being a girl had of course inherited the ability for emotion. But also being a Weasley, her emotional capacity was only slightly larger than that of a teaspoon. And Draco was convinced that he was utterly incapable of caring for any other living being but himself. In the Malfoy house, to care only for oneself was to survive. To love other beings was to die.

So they both denied it for a time.

When they finally realized it he was already out of school and with the dark mark. When they finally realized it, they did so seperately, without any inkling that the other had realized it, too. When they finally realized it, it wasn't a slow awakening or a gentle blooming of understanding. It was more of an explosion.

An atomic bomb lying in wait silently, harmlessly, until in the middle of the night he woke up after a particularly horrifying nightmare in a series of nightmares that culminated of her dying increasingly grisly deaths.

She gasped, wiped her hand across her forehead and felt it come back covered in sweat. An almost physical dagger of fear was thrust into her chest as she remembered his body lying lifeless on the ground.

And with sudden clarity, they realize.

She loves him. He loves her.

But by then, it was much too late.


End file.
